Not So Innocent
by Flaming Trails
Summary: Everyone thinks Victor Van Dort is a rather innocent fellow. But he's hiding a secret under his mattress. . . .


Not So Innocent

A Corpse Bride Fic

By Flaming Trails

_Notes: Inspired by the various fics and art I've seen describing poor Victor's reaction to "the talk." Although him being utterly ignorant about sex is pretty hilarious, I thought it might be funnier to have him be less innocent than everyone thinks. The mention of "The String of Pearls" is an in-joke – that was the first appearance of Sweeney Todd, who Johnny Depp also played._

"_But her eyes are fascinated. The glance of a serpent could not have produced a greater effect upon her than did the fixed gaze of those awful, metallic-looking eyes that were bent down on her face. Crouching down so that the gigantic height was lost, and the horrible, protruding white face was the most prominent object, came on the figure. What was it? -- what did it want there? -- what made it look so"_

Victor heard a door open somewhere in the house. Quick as a wink he snuffed his candle, shoved the penny dreadful under his pillow, and flopped back onto his bed, eyes closed to feign sleep. He'd done this a lot lately, and he was getting very good at it.

Footsteps came padding down the hall. Victor lay very still until they had passed, then opened his eyes again with a sigh. He really didn't know why he panicked every time he heard the slightest noise. It wasn't like his parents actually checked up on him. He could probably stay up the entire night reading and they wouldn't notice a thing. It just seemed to be instinct that made him hide his habit. Instinct and the knowledge that, if he were ever caught, he'd be reprimanded severely.

He relit his candle and extracted his publication. He looked at the cover in the dim, flickering light. _Varney the Vampire_ – an old one, but one of his favorites. He'd reread the various chapters he owned dozens of times. In fact, this one was starting to fall apart, it had been used so much. Victor looked at the tattered pages with a sigh. He knew he couldn't expect much quality for only a penny, but they could at least make the pages a _bit_ stronger. . . .

He located his place in the chapter and started reading again. The young woman was trying to escape, crawling slowly off the bed despite her fascination by the vampire. Victor already knew what happened next, but that didn't stop the shiver going up his spine as Varney snatched the girl by her hair and plunged his fangs into her neck. _Too bad not all of the chapters are as good as this,_ he thought with a touch of regret. _But again, you get what you pay for._

He smiled to himself at that. Imagine, the son of the richest man in the village reading common penny dreadfuls! It was a situation Victor himself couldn't have imagined three years ago. Then he'd caught Mayhew's nephew Tim reading one behind the stables – a chapter of _Varney_, actually, if he recalled correctly – asked to see it out of curiosity, and was hooked by the last page. Ever since then, he'd snuck down once a week to the corner shop to purchase the latest installment of whatever story was running. The stories provided him with a nice break from reality, much like his drawings or music. True, the writing quality was inconsistent, and the stories often meandering, but they had a sort of life to them Victor didn't often find in the novels his parents kept around. It was something new, something exciting, something _different_. And the fact he'd been able to make a deal with the other village boys to buy the chapters for them in exchange for being left alone was simply the icing on the cake.

Of course, given his station, he couldn't read them as freely as the other boys. Penny dreadfuls were intended for the working class, not the sons of rich upper-middle-class merchants whose parents were desperately trying to get into high society. Victor had been forced to hide his habit, sneaking the chapters out to read them in private moments, most often late at night. During the day he kept them well-hidden underneath his mattress. So far, he'd only been caught once – his mother had surprised him one day, reading a chapter from _The String of Pearls_ in the parlor bay window when he thought he was alone in the house. Nell had thrown a fit, yelling at him that he "shouldn't read such trash" and that "nobody from society would ever touch one," before throwing the chapter out.

Victor winced at the memory. He'd enjoyed that particular story, and sorely regretted seeing a chunk of it thrown away. Why did his parents have to be so concerned with society matters? And really, what difference did it make if he read penny dreadfuls on the sly? They might be trash, but they were _interesting_ trash! There were amazing stories printed on the cheap paper, stories you couldn't find anywhere else! Tales of outlaws and monsters, danger and romance –

Romance. Victor found himself blushing. He hated to admit it, but the romances – if you could call them that – were some of the main reasons he kept buying the chapters. Relationships weren't portrayed as flowery and fanciful, like in some of the more proper books he'd read. There was very little in the way of polite conversation, platonic walks through the town, bringing flowers, things like that. Instead – instead they were lurid, and filled with passion. People touched a lot. People _kissed_ a lot. And there was quite a bit of – "marital relations," Victor supposed, although marriage didn't seem to be a requirement. Things faded to black before they got _too_ untoward, of course, but the descriptions beforehand – well, they sent pleasant tingles all throughout his body. Victor couldn't imagine himself actually _doing_ anything the couples in the penny dreadfuls did, but it was fun to read about. And sometimes – do more than read. . . .

The footsteps coming back down the hall pulled him out of his thoughts. He snuffed his candle again and put the chapter back in its place. He'd finished the main text anyway – he should probably try to get some sleep. He lay down and idly wondered if he'd ever have an adventure like the ones in his penny dreadfuls. _Probably not. I don't have the temperament for it,_ he thought with a yawn. _Best to stick to just reading about such things. Nothing interesting happens in this village, anyway._

The End


End file.
